Addicted to your Punishment
by Crowley's.Darling
Summary: For quite some time, Gotham was haunted by the terror of the Joker. Now, they won’t be so lucky. Then again…why does The Joker take such an interest in this brunette? Hm?
1. These Wounds Are Self Inflicted

There is much to be learned from Blair Valentine.

Her life has drastically changed after the death of her mother, Jane Valentine who was killed by reasons Blair refuses to communicate. Only those close know the truth. If they're even that lucky. The few relatives Blair had were killed by a force marked as "unjustified" by Gotham's police force. Brilliant deviants, they are.

Those who knew were killed in vicious ways, naturally. Deranged, if you asked Commissioner Gordon. But who would dare?

Blair, on the other hand, is attempting to live a comforted life. Daily, she spends time with her best friend and resides in a quaint apartment just off the main street. Though what is held behind her hazel eyes will be forever known by the civilians of Gotham. For quite some time, Gotham was haunted by the terror of the Joker. Now, they won't be so lucky. Then again…why does The Joker take such an interest in this brunette? Hm?

What creates a killer?

Trauma. And any one of you.

If put in the right situations, of course.

Nonetheless, there are places to be hidden: you never know where a killer could be hiding; in your city, or Ms. Whitman down the street for example. You never would guess how _simple_ it is to create a murderer.

No?

Don't believe me?

I'm sure a murderous clown prince would. But of course, you have no need to taking my word on it. Let's just see how noble one adorable citizen is: Blair Valentine.

"And as life breaks, so shall _she_ break."

"Madness, as you know, is a lot like gravity. All it takes is a little _push_"

_I tried to kill you._

_You tried to save me_.

**Ch. 1**

'Oh, come on, you little bitch! Scream!'

I dragged my dagger across her skin quickly, the swipe creating a nice gash of crimson which dripped from her arm.

"So, where is she!?" I growled.

"I-I don't know!" Kelly cried, her tears making her thin eyeliner run.

"Her fucking best friend and ya don't even know where she is!?" I slapped her, making her hair flick from the sudden jerk. It was a hard slap; the kind that made a loud crack noise and red cheek. You know, almost the kind where your mother hits you for mouthing off to a teacher…_again_. Well, you wouldn't know. Though even after all the slaps, you still loved her. You cherished that which like she was Queen Bitch. And yet she left a hole in your wrist, gouged out some muscle with that damn knife she used to cut up onions. The ones you blamed the tears on. Those salty tears that ran down your face after every hit you took; you'd blamed it on the onions being cut. That it hurt. And how you _sobbed_.

Just like Kelly is now.

But you wouldn't know that.

Because you know nothing about me.

Oh, but you'll want to. Because one day, I'll show this world. I'll show 'em how to laugh…

"Please, just let me go,"

Cocking my eyebrow, I giggled. "Ya really think that's gonna work? After all the shit you put me through!?" Now was time to let myself be shown. She still doesn't know who I am.

"Who-who?" she halted in her blubbering.

Biting my lip slightly, I drew my face closer to hers, eye-to-eye. "Think _really_ hard,"

I watched her pupils moves back and forth between my eyes, the way actors do in soap operas. When recognition struck her, I was sent into a fit of laughter.

"B-Blair? Blair Valentine?"

"Correctamundo, bitch" I raised my knife.

"Blair, that was in Junior High. You haven't forgotten?" her two-toned eyes were wide. Yes, two-toned. She got contacts like that. Why, I'll never know. Nor do I wonder.

"Forget!? Those years were the ones that changed my life," I smiled, gazing down to the scars on my arms; long healed.

"So, this is what you turn into!? A killer?"

"Since when do you judge _me_!? _I'm_ doing the interrogating here. And you will never know what the reason of my demise was. You, you were just…what might be called an antagonist. But you weren't the final stand…" my mind flashed to memories which I pushed away. "Now, do you know Janean's location or not!?"

"No." she stated, staring me directly in the eyes. Ballsy bitch.

"Fine. Then fucking rot." And quickly, I stabbed her in the chest. I could hear the final breath escape her lungs. The light in her two-toned eyes had gone out as well. "Pathetic." Lighting a match, I dropped the flame on the newly-inert-corpse, walking out shortly before the blaze expanded to the rest of the business in which her death took place. The smell of burning skin filled my nostrils. I could almost see her flesh falling off into little pieces on the slightly wet floor. When burning hair wafted through the air, I wanted to gag, so I picked up my pace a bit; tossing my blade up as I walked, whistling the last song that played on my car radio.

'Useless little which,' a voice whispered in my head.

'But we're anticipating our next target,' another voice giggled.

"Would you stop!? I'm tired of these damn voices!" I mumbled. "And besides, who says we'll find her?

If there's one thing I love about Gotham, it's how incredibly dark the streets get at night. That's something excessive amounts of these imprudent inhabitants of Gotham despise. Not to mention the somberness of it all just sends chills through me.

So I sauntered 'home', if you could even call it that, while ignoring the conversation that was, yet again, going on in my head. It happens a lot when I need a kill.

Especially someone this faulty and bogus. The one which whom I am after has been hiding for too long. And. I. Will. Find. Her.


	2. I Could Follow You

**Addicted to your Punishment Ch 2- I Could Follow You**

Janean Melissa Roberts. 26 years young. 117 pounds, 4 ounces. Blue eyes, blond hair. Five foot three. Jean size: woman's three. Shirt size, medium. Bra? 36 A.

Stalker-ish? I think not. With something important, I make sure to stab the I's and cross the t's.

No, no. I mean dot the I's and cross the t's.

My apologies.

I'd been home for an hour now; Kelly's been decomposing for and hour and 5 minutes so far.

Though my foremost object of extermination is still up and running, I am vaguely content.

I've been committing haphazard slaughter for a year now but I still have no alias.

Those were the core of my thoughts. That is, until my cell phone rang beside me on the wooden table top.

"Blair! Get down here, now." my best friend, Shannon, was on the other line, screaming over the booming of music. Bass buzzing in my eardrums caused me to pull the object away from my ear for a short time.

"You know, I'm actually busy."

"Oh, stop brooding and plotting! Time to chill. Have some fun. Blair Valentine, if you don't get your sexy ass out of that room right now and get down here to the club, I'll _beat _you with a club."

"The weapon itself or the actual building itself?" I remarked.

"Both, if ya don't stop being a smart ass." she hung up.

Looks like planning will have to wait. She's right; I haven't been out much lately.

But, yes, she does know about my criminal background. You heard right. Don't second-guess yourself.

Deciding against getting overly spruced up, I washed quickly, putting on a thin bit of eyeliner. I threw on some jeans and a tube top, put on stilettos and left.

When I arrived at the club down the street, Shannon instantly embraced me.

"Let's dance." Were the first words from her glassed lips.

After a few songs, we joined at the bar. Facing the crowd of people, I sipped my daiquiri. My elbows rest back on the countertop while I sat next to my friend.

"So, how did tonight go?"

"Kelly's turn." I stated, smirking.

"Good. 'Bout time that whore got what she deserved," her eyes lingered on the TV. "Shot, Blair, ya gotta see this…"

Turning for a moment, I focused on the news reporting a fire at the old Truent building. "Oh…too bad."

"Did you…?" Shannon didn't have to finish her thought. I just grinned. "Ugh, you're nuts…" she hit her forehead.

"Oh? Well fuck you too. See when I save your ass." I muttered.

"Hey, it's not a bad thing! You're great. Please protect me?"

"Since you're practically begging, I supposed I'm inclined to." My eyes shifted through the people until I discovered a single blond. "Well…"

"What?" Shannon searched for the reason for my thoughts.

"Wouldn't you assume if you're hiding, it wouldn't be out in the open?"

When I stood, Shannon latched onto my arm, shrieking: "No. Not now!"

"But she's right THERE." I growled through clenched teeth.

"Yeah but do you want the police involved now?" sighing, I sat back.

"Damn it, you're right."

"That's right I'm right. Wait, love, wait."

"Yes, Ms. Lovett," I mocked. "What a blood wonder, imminently practical and yet appropriate as always. Ms. Lovett, how I've lived without you all these years, I'll never know."

"Ha, ha." Shannon rolled her eyes, not finding it amusing.

I, on the contrary, had and was now laughing frantically at my own joke and ignoring the little hussy who continued dancing as if she hadn't a care in the world. The more I watched after my laughter, the greater my vexation grew. I shouldn't be sitting here, regarding her. So I stood furiously, downing my drink.

"Where are you going?" Shannon inquired.

"Anywhere but here." I left, slamming the door.

I rested on the curb for some time, focusing as the illuminations of the transpiring cars taillights advanced past.

An idea came to my head; I knew where to go.

I lackadaisically stood; eyeing the cars with a glare. Every taxi that passed, I attempted to hail, though none stopped.

Growing more and more agitated by the millisecond, I walked to the center of the busy road and stopped, not looking up once.

Horns sounded loudly, ear piercing shouts of obscenities and the shaking of fists flew passed me. Another glare was sent and they shut up, gazing straight ahead and waiting for a light to change. Another taxi.

Show time.

Walking in front of it, I guessed it was accelerating at a speed of 45 miles per hour. The driver seemed caught off guard that there was a woman in the middle of the road and quickly hit the brakes. This simple reaction made the drivers which followed him to swerve all over, few crashing into others. I giggled at their madness. The driver was now directly in front of me, only bumping me with the front fender. I waltzed over to the open window.

"How many taxis are going to pass before I get a ride?" I catechized.

"S-so sorry, miss. P-please, let me take you." he shook. I got in. "where to, miss?"

"Arkham." I stated blankly. When he didn't begin to drive I stared at him. "Well? Is there a problem with that?" The weird, shocked look on his face slowly left to a look of questioning until he shook his head and began driving.

To where the madness somewhat began…

_I could follow you to the beginning just to re-live the start._


	3. Just The Thought of You I Fear

Just the Thought of you I Fear

The cab slowly pulled up to the building, as if knowing the abhorrence which resides here. As I stepped out, I could almost feel it entering me; like a venomous poison seeping through my skin. Slamming the cab's door, I ignored the man's stare as I entered the familiar doors.

Room 16. "Hey dad." I shut the door.

"H-hey, hun. How a-are you, darling?" his twitching hand touched my cheek.

"Been better," I leaned on the white wall. "And yourself? Are they treating you better? You know I can complain again…"

"N-no! T-that's n-not necessary." He chuckled but the sanity in his voice was incoherent. Had been for years now…since that night, at least… "T-the l-last time was enough…"

"Oh yeah? What changed?" I snapped, anger rising from the image in my head; him skinny as ever, cowering in the corner…

"They're n-nice now," he twitched under the buckles of the white uniform which restricted his arms. "They…they treat me better. N-now they give me healthy food…"

"And this?" I motioned to the straightjacket, "They won't let you out?"

"I-it give me comfort; being held together as it were…" he shot back.

"How many pills are they cramming down your throat?"

"One in the morning, afternoon, 2 at night. All kinds! One's green. You know how much I love green."

I gave up, "Dad, do you want to stay here?"

He stopped shaking, "And go where?"

"Home."

"Home?" he breathed in shakily, "Home…" he glanced at me. "My home was ruined when she was taken from us. I will never be home." A pain in my heart shot out, shouting to the emptiness of my soul. The pieces broke from the forlorn look in his eyes. "Besides," he continued, "I have a new friend." Instantly, I wondered if it was an imaginary friend. A fifty year-old man should not have an imaginary friend…or a mind as fucked up as his. He was ruined after that night… "His name is Jay. We're l-lunch buddies." He chuckled madly again, his shaking and rocking now back. "He wants to meet you."

"Really?" I questioned.

"Yes. He's down the hall. Room 18. Visit him after me?" he requested.

"Sure, dad." After a few more minutes of insuring he was alright, I said my goodbye to him.

Should I visit this Jay character?

I really don't feel like it…

Dad will probably mention me stopping by next lunch then Jay will ask why I never showed, dad will be mad at me…just a whole mess. Avoidable mess, at that.

I entered room 18. If I'd have known then what I would later discover, I would never have entered that room.

The man who rest in the corner with a straightjacket on smiled at me. A sick smile; one which spread across his lips fully and sent chills through me. His hair was somewhat curly, a green-blond color. His eyes were chocolate, smears of black underneath them, looking like dark half-circled smudges of eyeliner.

"Hello there," his voice was deep, dark and smooth. "You must be Blair, hm?"

"And you're Jay?" there were scars along his lips into a permanent smile…

"Well, you can call me that," he licked his lips, "and what might you be doing here? Daddy dearest sent you?"

"And say he did?" I couldn't place the face…

"Why, that's precious! Didn't think the kook was tellin' the truth about having a daughter," I bit my tongue from yelling. He insulted my father. "And where's momma? He never talks of her."

"Gone."

"Left? Or…"

"Gone." I repeated.

"Ok, ok. You don't wanna talk. I see that. Well, I'm taking good care of dear-old daddy. He's better off in here, you know."

"How can you take care of him when you're in a straight jacket?"

He glanced down, "oh, this?" slowly he got out of it; like a magician escaping. My jaw dropped. I'm in an asylum, stuck in a room with a psycho who just escaped his straightjacket. Oh shit. "That's just for me to keep warm," his voice rose a bit; a taunting happy tone. "You know, they don't treat us criminals like they should. No heat here." It seemed to get colder in the room.

"Criminals?"

"Your dad could be one…sadly, he's insane; as they think I am. Just pop back some pills, we'll lock ya up, and you'll be as good as new 'till ya die in here. They make it seem so…_simple_." He came towards me, dropping the straight jacket to the floor. He was in a white shirt and pale blue pants. "But, he's better in there. I'm not."

"How so?" I backed away.

"There's a new criminal on the loose, killing people all over. No alias yet. Daddy could get hurt."

Shit…does this guy know? "And you…?"

By now he pushed me to the wall, holding me there in an intimate position, staring into my eyes.

"And I…I'm getting out of here soon…and when I find this newbie, I'll make her my new playtoy…"

Shit.

I pushed him away from me, charging to the door. He called after me. "Be careful out there, doll!" which sent him into a fit of giggles.

As I left, the door locking behind me, I couldn't help but notice…

I somehow knew that laugh…


	4. Brimming With Hate For Both of You

**Addicted to Your Punishment Ch 4- Call Me Bitter But I'm Brimming With Hate for Both of You**

_ Sleep, the only place I could gain my sanity. Or…so I thought…_

"It'll be fine, baby. Nothing will happen."

"You're so naïve, Joe."

"No. It's okay. I understand."

"Do you really? I gave you everything! My best friend of six years, my love, time…my virginity! And you gave up your best friend of two years who happens to be your ex. And you took her back not even a year later. You lie to me when I ask if you talk to her and now she's coming over your house!" I was now screaming.

"Can't you trust me?"

"Not when you lie about little things! How can I trust you with the important things then!" I hung up.

The rest of the day, I tried to calm my constant anger and distract my thoughts. Something bad is going to happen shortly. I just know it… There's nothing I can do…

She's put me through hell; was the one who tried to break me up with the only guy I will ever love. She wants to be with him again! She's like a child; remember when you played with blocks and there was a shiny blue ball beside you but you couldn't care less? Then someone picks up the blue ball and suddenly, oh shit, you want that now! Stupid bitch…

I felt bad about acting such a way so I texted him that I was sorry.

After a few quick replies, the texts stopped from him. Completely halted. 'It's not freaking me out in the least that you haven't replied.' I sent.

I waited five minutes. It was a long wait and I couldn't take any more. I finally put on a coat and hurriedly made my way to his house. Letting myself in, I rushed to his bedroom. The loud scream echoed off the chipping painted walls. An image was burned in my memory at that instant…

She lay on top of him, bucking her bare hips into his; her blond hair falling in her reddened face as she huffs and sweats; riding the man whom I'd just had sex with **last night.**

"You're fucking kidding me, right!" I screamed.

She smirked, not getting off him. He tried to stand, soon succeeding and now in front of me; nude. I gazed down to see his penis; the length I'd taken in my mouth and inside my core multiple times. Something which was usually covered in my juices was now pulsing in front of me, covered in the juices of his ex. The clear cum shone as he breathed; his still-hard shaft bounced with each breath.

"Baby…" he gasped. The sweat clung to his forehead; too, shining in the light.

Gazing over, I saw the now-innocent look on her face. "Joe! You said you broke up with her."

"I did not!" and I knew that, at least, was the truth.

"Fuck you." was the last thing I'd ever said to both of them. Then, I ran…

I bolted out of that one-story house; the red bricks on the front chipping away as my mind washed away its color. The brightness that seemed to light that house was gone; forever ruined by a grey cloud which she'd made my memory create. That night was the first time I lost it…really lost it.

I couldn't stop talking to myself; telling myself it wasn't my fault. That it was hers and I had no say in the situation.

My mind gradually left me; sitting in a corner, a rocking motion. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Sanity slowly drained in those short hours; the clock swirled backwards and melted in the silence. My mom was the only one who would comfort me in the following days; daddy was off at work and had no time for drama.

Mom was there when things got rough; she wasn't too interested in helping though. Whenever I got angry, she assumed I was screaming at her. Sh could never understand the pain and madness I was getting into. I just wanted normality.

What I hadn't known was that in a few short days, my life would spiral down even quicker with something which altered me completely. Lunacy would arrive tersely following. There was no escaping that…

My eyes opened. It wasn't a dream; dreams mean fantasy. Fantasy is not reality. This was a memory…

Even now, I could see what happened before I found them. The only man I loved; Joe. And his ex…Janean.

_He sat in the computer chair; she sat on his lap, feeling the hardness of something which had been inside me the night before. She smiles, turning and kissing his neck. He moans, a sound which had filled my ears all last night. She trails her worm-like fingers on his penis. His eyes would have closed in ecstasy; the reaction I got every time I did that. And then…off comes her shirt, bra, his shirt; pants, underwear thrown all over the floor. Into the bed, they go…_

It's 2:09 a.m.

I'm up.

Done sleeping.

Wide awake.

The hollow screams of that night…MY hollow screams, echoed in my ears…

_**"FUCK YOU!"**_


	5. I Got A Head Full of Wreckage

**Addicted to Your Punishment Ch. 5- I Got A Head Full or Wreckage**

6:19 a.m.

I'm outside of his house; Steven Adams. He's in a band, you know? Claims it is going to be successful. Oh, did I mention the only reason he started playing drums was because of my favorite drummer? And the only reason he started playing guitar was because of Shannon's favorite guitar player? He _sure_ knows how to get the ladies. And I'm sure the only reason he became a vampire is because of Edward Cullen, right? Well, that's what he'd tell any Twilight fangirl…great pickup line.

Anyway, I have some serious ideas running through this head of mine. I just need some help…

I went home, applied my makeup; swirls of eyeliner running down my eyes, purple contacts were placed in, and my hair was pulled into high pigtails. I powdered my face more, wore jeans and a T-shirt to blend in, and threw on a hoodie, putting the large hood over my head. Lastly, I placed my black gloves on and exited.

I walked down the street with my head hung low.

After an hour and twenty minutes of walking, I hailed another taxi. Of course, no one stopped. Not many people were on the street, mind you, so I suppose I have to take matters into my own hands… _again_.

Some young woman was walking into the bakery, staring at a list. Time for action.

I saw her standing at the counter while the tall dark and creepy man placed whatever the hell she bought in a brown paper bag. She began walking out. That's when I started coughing. Got her attention really fast.

"Oh, Miss? Are you alright?" her voice was frail, just like the rest of her.

I coughed more, still hiding my face by keeping my head down, "yes, yes, I'm fine." More coughing, "it's just…none of these taxis will stop and I need to get some medicine."

She walked over, placing her frail hand on my scarred back, though she wouldn't know about and would never understand the scars…

"Oh, sweetie, I can take you. Do you need to go to the pharmacy?" she questioned. I nodded through another fake coughing fit, "alright, just get in and I'll take you." Perfect.

I sat in the passenger seat, touching the knife in my belt loop while she started the car. My head remained down and I grinned at myself in the mirror. She began driving off towards the pharmacy which is on the same street as Arkham; where I'm really headed.

She began making small talk. I. Hate. Small. Talk.

My knife came out faster than my words, "listen here, deary. You're going to keep driving." My knife was pressed to her jugular. "Pass the damn pharmacy; forget the meds, and park right in front of Arkham." She made fearful noises as she did what I said. A cop was surveying the area. It was Lickler; a newbie. I hid the knife for a second, pulling down the mirror and insuring my makeup was well.

I rolled down the window, "officer?" I called sweetly. He turned to me, his eyes wide as he took in my face. He was close enough to grab, so I took his shirt in my hand, pulled him over, and pulled out his two pairs of hand cuffs. I got out of the car, threw him in the passenger seat and cuffed the frail woman to her steering wheel, doing the same to the cop. I searched the back seat, finding an umbrella and tearing the material long enough to use. I tied both of their other hands together with that, and took the keys out of the ignition. "I'll be needing this." I pulled out his walkie talkie, tossing it to the ground then stabbing it a few times. I then stole his gun and mace, taking his hat off and placing it on my head.

"You can't do this." Lickler called as I began walking away. I stopped.

"Oh, I think I can." And I pulled out his nightstick, striking him, remorselessly, upside the cranium. He began losing consciousness and his eyes closed; body limp. The lady sobbed loudly. I eyed her, feigning distress. "What's wrong?" She cried louder and I grabbed her purse, searching for her cell phone. I took it, pocketing it. "You know," I paused, "if you're good, I'll let you live." She stared at me with her tear-stricken face. "Answer me this: do you have a family?"

She nodded, "a-a daughter and two sons."

"Where's daddy?"

"We're divorced." She gasped.

I nodded, "such a tear-jerker." I wiped a fake tear away, "so, [i]_I'm_[/i] the only one who determines if your kids get mommy back or not." I popped the 'T'. "I suggest you do exactly as I say and you get to see them again. Ok?" She nodded. "Not good enough." I slapped her then turned, "I'm in the need of someone. Be good while I'm gone." I jingled her keys in front of me, pocketing them too and skipping inside Arkham.

As soon as I got in there, I noticed two things: one security guy was snoozing, and the other was alert. I shot him in the head, adjusting Lickler's hat on my head while the other guy woke up, startled.

"Hey!" he called, and I watched him come at me.

"You wanna play?" I giggled. He tried sending me a left hook but I caught his hand mid-swing, turned behind his back and stabbed him with the knife. "So. Give me the keys to back there." I motioned to the room where they kept the new recruits of Arkham. He pulled the keys out and I tore them from his grasp. "Good boy. You get a treat!" and I pushed the knife in deeper, urging him to walk, as my human-shield.

Unlocking the door, I looked around.

"Oh, mistah cop, that you?" a Brooklyn accent stuck out, echoing off the blue walls. "Ya know, it would be nice ta answer a lady while she's talkin'!"

I stepped up to the cell to see a blond woman. Her outfit was tight, black, and red. I recognized her; Harleen Quinzel.

"Well, aren't you gonna answer her?" I asked the guard with the knife in his back as I held the hilt.

"Wh-what do you need?"

"Well, now tha'cha mention it, what does a girl have'ta do ta get some makeup around here." She paused, eyeing me, "and who are you?"

I shifted, pushing the knife to the left in the man's back. His screams echoed off the walls and my eyes closed at the sound. So beautiful.

"Echo." I answered before thinking. Sounds pretty good. All this time with no alias and this is what I got? Not half bad. "name's Echo."

She paused, thinking it seemed, "Oh, you're that new girl? The one with 'no alias'?" she smiled, holding her hand out through the bars, "Harley. Nice ta meet'cha."

I shook with my other hand, "What did you do to get in here?"

"Hmph," she crossed her arms over her chest, "I ain't sayin' nothin'!"

"Ah, well then I suppose you ain't getting out either." I moved on to the next cell; a tall man with black hair and a labret piercing smiled at me, his blue eyes seemed to pierce right through me.

"Hey!" Harley called. I ignored her.

"And you are?" I asked the man with the blue eyes.

"Owen Plige." He had an aura about him…

"Hey, Echo!" Harley again.

"Would you like to help me?" I smirked.

He smiled widely, "You're damn right. This place fails." He joked. I giggled, liking him already. I grabbed the keys and let him out.

"Anyone else?" I called, gazing around and jingling the keys." Everyone ran to the bars, staring at me; gaping. I turned to Owen, "know anyone trustworthy?"

He looked around at the faces, "not really…" he paused, "him." He pointed, "long time no see, Mack." He walked to another man with dark hair and grey eyes, snake bits adorned his lips.

"Hey, Owen. Sup?" these guys were completely strange. I like that.

"You work for me now." I told Owen, tossing the keys to him, "choose wisely who could help."

Owen looked at Mack, "you in?"

Mack grinned softly, "hell yeah. Let's fuck some shit up!" and Owen let him out of his cell. "Workin for a pretty lady." Mack sang softly, making up his own tune as he gazed around the cells.

"Alright boys, anyone else?"

Owen swung the keys around as Mack eyed me, "nope." Owen spoke.

The guard in my arms was fading, "Mack, hit him a few times." I instructed.

"Gladly." And he punched him in the gut, "Wake up!"

"Come on, I'll kill you now." I spoke, causing the guard fear.

Eyeing around, I found no one else interesting. All same old bums or just completely nuts. I need someone who's rough, rugged and not afraid of a surplus of blood. "That's about good. Let's go. Got a car waiting out there for us."

Just as I spoke, three other officers entered, "freeze." They called.

"Tag, you're it." Owen tagged Mack who was now still.

"Dude, what the fuck?" Mack asked.

Owen smiled, "he said freeze! Freeze tag! Let's play."

My laugh erupted, frightening the officers. "Just…stay there." They were scared.

I pondered this, "Hm, that doesn't work too well for me. How bout you guys?" I looked at my new goons who were shaking their heads and sending me matching grins. "Sick 'em!" I called.

Gunfire was heard and I dropped the officer I'd been holding. I lunged, dropping to my knees as I pulled out the officer's gun, tossing my beloved knife to Mack. Hey, if I want them to trust me, I had to trust them, I suppose.

I shot the short cop in the leg, giggling as he fell. Bullets barely missed me as I pressed myself against Harley's cell.

"Hey, let me out!" she called.

"Not yet, little Miss." I snapped.

Owen now had one cop on the ground. He had his knee on the cop's stomach, pummeling him multiple times in the face. Mack cut the cheek of the man who still stood, aiming at me. I pulled the first cop off the floor, his knife wound in the back gushing blood.

"Hey," the other cops looked at me as I spoke, "do you know this man?"

"Yes. He's the boss." The young one under Owen called as Mack sat on one cop, holding the knife to the neck of the other.

"Oh really?" I giggled, pulling him closer to the others. "Sit 'em up. I want them to see." I instructed. Mack and Owen pulled the three cops to their feet. "So, Arkham has what? Six cops on duty all day? Lickler's in the car. You three are here, Bitchy is dead and Grumpy here, well, he's not gonna be here for long. You see?" I turned him around, revealing the knife wound. The youngest cop looked away as my goons smirked, "I gave this to him, I'd say…ten minutes ago? A wound like this…bleed out in a matter of a few more minutes." I giggled, "Ever had a stab wound?" No answer so my goons hit them in the chest. 'No's were heard from the officers, "well, I have. Not fun. Not a pretty picture. In fact," I threw Grumpy on the ground as he groaned, "it hurts like hell. Your flesh burns for a while until it starts becoming numb. Then the blood loss, oohh, makes you lightheaded, honestly. And you can't forget the sticky feeling of the blood. Oh, no. There's the sound the dried blood makes when you peel your sodden shirt off and, ow, it stings like a motherfucker. Then there's the issue of patching yourself up or hospital bills, actually, it's a royal pain in the ass." I sighed, pulling the gun arms length. "I'll just…put him out of his misery and away from all the hassle, hm?"

"No! Don't shoot!" the young cop called.

"Oh? And…why not?" no answer, "Well, there's gotta be some kind of bargaining here. I mean, don't expect me to just let him live."

"The…the other cops weren't called." The blond cop spoke up.

"Really? Now, why should we believe you?" Owen shot back.

"He…he can't die." The other said.

"Why not? Everyone dies sometime." Mack shrugged.

"It's his 70th birthday tomorrow." The young one spoke.

I lowered my gun, "Oh, well in that case." I spoke sarcastically, raising the gun at him again, "do you think I care?"

"They force won't come if you keep him alive." They reassured me.

"Oh, that's no fun." The next sound filled all our ears, one round into the old man's back, and I turned to open Harley's cell. "Now, sweetie, you need to promise to be good." I told her.

She giggled, "Oh, I want fun too. Please?" I didn't completely trust her yet, so I gave her Lickler's nightstick. I could defend myself against that if it came to it. A bullet? No.

"Will you be good?" I talked to her like a child. She giggled, nodding. "Will all of you be good?" I looked at the other three as I took Harley's hand, walking her to Owen and Mack. I stared up at Owen, "now, I seal the deal with a kiss. Will you work for me?" I looked into his blue eyes. He nodded, licking his lips. "Good," I placed my finger on the blood splurt on Owen's cheek from the cop, wiping it off before kissing him softly. I pulled back, walking to Mack, "and you?" he nodded stiffly and I kissed him as well. I could tell the boys were, well, being boys; anticipating the girl-on-girl kiss. I turned to Harley who giggled at me, "and you, Harley? You'll never betray me?"

"Nope, neva. You're too much fun, Echo." She leaned in. Satisfied, I kissed her roughly on the lips, hearing the cheers from Mack and Owen.

"Ready? We have work to do." I turned to the door. "Would any of you three kids like to come along for the ride? It's that, or…" I took my knife back, "your ride ends here."

No one answered so I started at the blond one, "I'll take my chances." He spoke.

"Suit yourself." I giggled, handing the knife to Harley, "not, sweets, prove to me you're worthy. The boys have."

"Sure thing, boss." She took the knife and quickly slit the neck of the blond man, blood hitting our faces as he dropped to the floor. "Next?"

"You two?" I asked the other officers. They both were staring at their comrades, "better answer before the buzzer."

Finally one spoke shakily, "No…no, we'll take our chances too."

"Aww, you sure?" I faked a pout. They nodded, "Go ahead boys," they took turns with the knife, slicing into skin, peeling away at humanity. The blood was pooling around out feet. Harley and I skipped around in it, laughing. I suddenly stopped, staring at the bodies, "I wish they would have stayed," I began making my way out the door, "We have a LOT of fun…"

The three followed me out the door. Harley still had the nightstick, I had the gun, Owen had my knife, and Mack took the blond cops gun.

We made our way down the halls. I found it impossible to look at my father's room as we passed. The vile sentiment that someone's intense stare remained keen on us sent trepidation through me. Glancing over my shoulder, I spotted dark eyes watching through room 18. He'd wanted me as a play toy, so he said. I remember. We continued walking but I held his gaze, winking at him, my gun held high. A small smirk lifted his features as I blew him a kiss, turning back around and continuing on our tour de Arkham.

"Where we goin?"

"My apartment." I answered. "Now, it's not huge but we'll find someplace better soon. Promise."

"Fun!" Harley skipped.

Owen stood beside me, "So, what do you need us for anyway?"

I was honestly more than shocked by this. Why did he care? "Well, company I suppose." I giggled, "No, seriously, I have a new job. Something…fun." I eyed Harley when she turned to us at the word.

"Blood involved?" Mack spoke up.

My gloved hand pushed open the door, "how else could we have fun?"

"Good point!" Harley stopped skipping, staring at the car. I stepped forward.

"Ah, Officer Lickler, did ya miss me? I see you're awake now." blood seeped from the mark I'd made on his head. He scoffed at me.

The lady was done crying now, tear stains were seen on her cheeks though. Poor thing.

"What a crappy car." Harley commented.

I sighed, "You're telling me." Now what was I going to do with them? Lickler would have to die, right? I mean, he'd tell people. He's a cop, God damn it! "I've killed enough cops for the day, but…" I sighed, taking out the keys to the cuffs, which I'd left in his case on his belt. He groaned, "What? Sad ya didn't know this was here?" I giggled, "Ya know, ya could have been outa here sooner. I'd give you props for that!" I uncuffed them both, "Harley, get the bitch." She went to the other side and grabbed her, "Okay, boys, get in the back, put her in-between you two. Harley, you get shotgun." Harley squealed, handing the woman to Owen. "As for you, officer. Will you say anything?"

"It's my job. Of course."

"But…you wouldn't be able to identify me, would you?" he paused, glaring down at the street. "I have a fun idea." I giggled, "I'll be back." If I can't trust them now, I'll never be able to. I ran receded inside Arkham, running through the halls this time with Lickler. I noticed Jay look at me again, staring daggers as I smirked and walked past. "Now, here you go." I took one set of cuffs, cuffing his right hand to the pipe in Harley's still-open cell. I picked up the four dead bodies, one by one, and tossed them in the cell, around Lickler. "Now, at least you'll have your friends." And I closed the cell, locking him in there then swinging the keys on my finger. I whistled as I left, the other cuffs going in my pocket for my next mission…

Jay still watched me as I walked out, blood covering me from the bodies I'd thrown. "How are ya today, Jay?"

He smiled, "better. Much. MUCH. Better."

•••

"Alright, now that's done." I jumped in the driver's seat of the car, thankful that I could actually trust these three. "Now, where do you live?" I asked the lady.

"53rd and Warner." She sniffled.

I made my way down there, "The brakes on this car are horrible. Better find a new hubby to fix em for ya." I giggled.

"What house?" Owen pressed the knife to her.

"Hold your whores, Owen, we're not even there." I snapped.

"But still, what house." Mack sighed, bored it seemed.

She gasped, "The big yellow one. My children are home. Please don't hurt them."

I took out her phone, dialing the police.

"Hello?" these things were recorded for later use, I knew.

"That was a lot of fun, you know."

"Miss?"

I giggled, "Play with their emotions and you'll always get somewhere, you know."

"Excuse me, Miss?"

"Hm?"

"What is the emergency?"

"Oh, there is none. For me, anyway. You, on the other hand, may want to get some more of your officers down at Arkham. Five officers down. One's tied up, alive. A gift for you. Plus he bored me. You don't want to cause commotion, do you? The citizens of Gotham wouldn't like to hear part of their police force was massacred. Don't start any signals, hm? Then, get there fast…before they hear his screaming echo." I hung up. My goons laughed, hitting my shoulder lightly and telling me how funny that was.

"We're almost to the street." Harley pointed out.

I tossed back the cell phone. "Here, call your kids."

"What?"

"Call them." She did and held the phone to her ear. It was so silent I could hear the dial and then a child's voice answering. "Tell them it will be okay."

"Everything will be okay."

"Say, 'mommy's gonna be home soon'."

"Mommy's gonna be home soon." She sobbed into the receiver.

Memories of my own mother flooded through my mind. My head instantly hurt as it played through memories. Shit!

"Tell them that you love them. That you'll always be there." She did. "Now hang up." She did that as well. Everyone was staring at me as we parked at the house. "Get her to me. We need to talk." I got out, grabbing her as they threw her out of the car. I dragged her toward the front door of her house.

"Please don't hurt them." She begged, "They're all I've got."

I sighed, lowering my eyes, "I didn't want to do this in front of the others. And if this gets out to the public, I know where you live and I will find you." I knew she wouldn't move either, her kids were in school. That's a traumatic experience. "Now, I have a blind spot for mothers and kids. You know, I was there before too. I lost her though." I sighed. She seemed to calm down from the normal tone of my voice now. I wasn't caught up in the high of killing. "Someone created me to be this way; it's not a choice. I can't choose not to lose my mind. She left and that was the final straw."

"What happened to her?" she spoke softly.

I sighed, "I-I can't tell you." I bit my lower lip lightly, "now, I want you to learn from this. Protect your kids. It's an experience. Don't trust anyone."

"Just like I trusted you this morning when I went to help you." she seemed to understand now, "that was all a lesson?"

I smirked, "Can't respect what you have until it's taken away." I paused, "Now, don't trust anyone. No one's good in this city. Live every day as if it were your last, got me?" I raised my tone harshly, "if those kids really are your life, treat them that way. But don't trust in this city." I pushed her to the door, to make a point. I wiped the blood off her face and stood back.

"Keep the car. It will just be bad memories." She's setting me up, gonna call the cops to look for that car when we're gone. So…I'll trash it. I nodded, beginning to walk away as I heard footsteps on the other side of the door. "But you're wrong." She called. I kept walking to the car, about to get in the open door. "We can trust Batman."

I growled at the mention of him, "No. We can never trust him. He'll let us all down."

"What's wrong with him?" she called, now gutsy since she knew I wasn't interested in murdering her in front of her children's eyes.

"He's a liar." I snapped, getting in the car and speeding down the road. I turned on the radio. Might as well listen to it on our way to the junkyard.

"You alright boss?" Mack asked.

I sighed, staring out the windshield as we entered the junk yard, "no. But when have I ever been?"

We all got out and I walked to the man that worked there. I took the light he was using for his smokes and walked away. His scared expression made me laugh. I doused the car with gasoline and light it up.

What a beautiful sight…

"Come on, there's a short cut over here." We made our way beyond the fence and walked through the woods back to my apartment.

Tomorrow we begin the torture…

_Fuck all this madness, put it aside. Out of the shadows, into the light._


	6. Another Story With A Mangled Scene

"Just grab him and get out?" Mack asked.

It was dawn; a nice hue of the sunset hit his window.

Oh, did I mention we're outside of Steven Adams' house?

No?

Well, we're outside of Steven Adams' house.

Harley nudged my shoulder, "don't mean to rain on yah parade, boss, but he knows what we look like. If we do this…"

I interrupted her, "-don't worry. He won't survive long enough to tell anyone."

Owen smiled that cheeky smile at me, the one that makes you wonder if he was actually a criminal. Out of all of us, he looked the most…normal? Then again, what is 'normal'?

Owen would wear black jeans and some t-shirt. He'd douse his eyes in eyeliner of course. Well, normally; today? We need to blend in. And so we will.

I watched everyone do the same thing I had been; putting on their gloves. No need for fingerprints.

The plan was simple; get in as if we were guests so no one would be curious.

Harley smirked at us as she walked to the door. The three of us turned, waiting for him to answer the door. Nearly right when it opened, he yawned.

"Who are you?" I hadn't need see him; I could tell he was checking Harley out. No, we haven't known each other very long, but I still felt the need to protect her. Anger pumped through my veins.

"You don't rememba me?" her accent made me smirk.

He pondered this, "no."

"Good!" I turned, as did Owen and Mack.

"Blair, w-what are you doing here?"

"Just stopped by for a chat. With some friends, of course. Is…that a problem?"

He fidgeted, "Um."

Harley pushed past him and walked inside, followed by Owen and Mack.

I closed and locked the door, allowing Owen and Mack to pick up the couch and place it in front of the door. Steven backed up, to bump into Harley. His eyes widened at sight of the .45 in her hand. Loaded, might I add.

"Do you remember?" I asked impatiently. His gaze fell back on me. Behind me, Owen closed the curtains and unplugged the phone lines while Mack searched the house, closing the windows upstairs and locking the back door. "Do you?" Silence. "Well then, let me refresh your memory," reaching in my back pocket, I pulled out the folded up piece of paper. It's old, I know. You see, this situation happened years ago, and I still kept this. "Do you remember Shannon and I? I was in a relationship with Joe, she was single. You used to tell me that you loved me. You poked fun at Joe constantly and bitched about how I should be with you. Do you remember after those weeks, I told you off? Then what did you do? You went straight for Shannon. You made out with her a bit and then played with her heart. Told her you wanted to be with her but she was too young. She was two years younger than you, wasn't she? Do you know that she finally felt like someone cared about her?" Owen pulled out the cuffs from yesterday. Mack pulled out the chair. Harley tripped Steven into it. Then, before I could blink, he was cuffed and tied down. "Do you ever remember saying this, and I quote:" I read from the page I'd printed all those years ago. "'I played a love game on both of you. To fix you and Joe, and to steer Shannon away from Tom. If I really wanted either of you, I could have had you. I did you both a fucking favor. If you don't appreciate it, fine. I made you see ...what was in front of you, and what you had to do to make it better. And guess what. You and Joe are more lively than ever, aren't you? There you go. I actually do understand the world.'."

His eyes widened, "are you still dating?"

I sighed, "if you must know, he cheated on me. That's not the point. The point is, you fucked up really badly. You know that?"

He tried getting out of the cuffs, "What did I ever do to you?"

I leaned in, "I'm surprised you haven't seen." And I stood back, pulling the knife from my hoodie pocket and staring at the gleam.

"I'm sorry!" he blurted out.

I sighed, clicking my tongue, "it's too late for apologies." My goons looked bored, "Aw, everyone, get some food from the kitchen. Steven's treat." I grinned at him as the three cheered, raiding the kitchen.

"What did I ever do that was so bad? He cheated on you. I told you to stay away from him."

I again smiled, "True. After you though, there was always that tension. I loved him. He was the only person to ever treat me right. But you? Oh, you just want a lay, didn't you?" I shook the knife at him, giggling, "you thought you could slither your way into the relationship, get me to think of breaking up with Joe, and bang me every time you wanted?" he stayed quiet, "well, until you told me about your little…condition."

My goons entered again, eating random things. Owen had a box of cookies; Mack had a handful of three bags; Doritos, chips, and pretzels. Harley had the pint of ice cream.

"What condition?" Harley laughed.

I smirked, "Not only is he a sex addict, but he has an STD; HPV."

Harley gasped, stepping back, "ew!"

"Human Papilloma Virus?" Mack chimed in.

"Can't that shit give a woman cervical cancer?" Owen grimaced.

I nodded, "but he wasn't sure he had it. Didn't read up on it, didja?" I eyed him, "nope. You said the symptoms went away." I stopped pacing, "did ya know that was one of the symptoms?" he stayed silent, "answer me."

"Yes."

"Oh, that's even better. Lying to me, saying that you might not have it but really knowing? What were you trying to do?"

"I…"

"Oh, don't even answer that, you piece of shit! You're a fucking goner." Owen shouted.

I grinned at Owen then spoke to Steven., "You know, Shannon wasn't as torn up as you thought."

He looked up, "What?"

"Yep. It was actually what brought us together. I cheered her up, and…destiny was created." He looked back down and I cut the flesh on his arm just to hear him scream. "But, you didn't care, did you? You brought her along anyway and thought you had an impact on her life. Nope. You just pissed me off."

"What are you gonna do to me?" he asked.

I swung the knife, "Oh, it's not that big of a deal, really. You'll get what you deserve."

"What's that?"

"Now, why would I want to ruin the punch line? That's like…telling someone the ending to a story when they're only a few chapters in! Cruel, if you ask me."

"And what you're doing now isn't cruel?"

"And what you did back then wasn't cruel?" I shot back, "you said it yourself. It was a love game, right?" He remained silent which annoyed me to no end. "Well, tell me something I don't know." Nothing. "NOW!"

He sighed, "you don't know that I was…trying to find the person I cared for. She left me and then I went looking for someone new."

"How 'bout next time, don't go to the girl who's been dating the same guy for years. And don't pull the same shit on her best friend. Don't you watch TV? They have sitcoms like that all the time. Learn from them, isn't that what they're there for? I mean, it sure as hell isn't entertainment." I paused, "unlike this." And I sliced off a chunk of his arm.

Harley giggled, "Nice one, boss."

"So, are you that girl?" he groaned through his pain.

"Very specific there." I muttered.

"The one who's been killing people for a while?"

I shrugged, "everybody dies sometime."

He fought against the cuffs, "you don't have to bring it on though."

"Oh, I think I do. But, only a selected few."

"And what of Joe? And the girl he cheated on you with?"

I smirked, "wouldn't you like to know?"

He nodded, "I would."

"Well, we're getting there."

"And Joe?"

"What about Joe?" I spat.

He laughed, "he hurt you the most."

"Nope." I popped the 'p'. "You'd be surprised who hurt me the most."

"Will he die?"

"Possibly."

"You haven't decided yet!"

I hummed, "not quite. Now shut the hell up. You're giving me a headache, you annoying son of a bitch."

"I never did anything to you."

"You lie." I snapped, cutting at his scalp.

He cried out, "I only showed you how wonderful things could be."

"Yeah, wonderful: a broken heart, sex addicted boyfriend, an STD, cervical cancer, and possible death? Every girl's fairytale dream!"

He groaned, "No, I would have been better than Joe. Better than any of the boyfriends you had in the past or will have in the future."

"You're so sure of yourself, you lying piece of shit." I snapped.

"No, it's the truth. And I was right, if I really wanted you OR Shannon, I could have had you." he gasped, "You know, Shannon and I were about to fuck." I laughed, "we were going to have an awesome time. I'd leave before she found out she had an STD. But then you called her cell phone, faking some emergency, and fucked it all up. She ran to get you after that. Remember?"

I laughed, "Yeah, actually, I do. Do you think I regret it?"

"I hope you do. Cuz when I get out of these hand cuffs-"

I giggled, "You really think I'm gonna let you go?"

His eyes bulged, "you're not!"

I plunged the knife into his chest, "no." I growled in the depths of my throat, "it's about time to cut him loose." I told the goons.

"Yay!" Harley cheered, "can I kill him, boss?" I turned, simply glaring at her. She got the answer.

"On second thought," I stood straight, "Harley, would you like to do the honors? Go out the door and in the garage. Get the sledge hammer and pick axe. Mack, help her."

They followed instructions and came back shortly. "What are you doing?" Steven flipped his hair out of his face.

"Oh, you'll see." I walked over to Harley, "now sweetie," I pulled her close, "pick up the hammer. I heard it's your specialty." She giggled, picking it up with ease. "now," I led her to Steven, "See that spot right there?" I pointed to his thigh. She nodded, "hit right there over and over. Just have fun with it for a while. If ya get tired, I'll have a go."

"No, please-" Steven was cut off as Harley swung swiftly, hitting his thigh every time. His cries were loud so we tied a cloth across his mouth.

It took about…oh, I don't know…twenty minutes of his screams and God only knows how many hits with the hammer, but a loud crack sound echoed through the house.

"Good." I smiled at the sweating Harley, "now, hit the knee."

"Ya gonna have to give me a rest," she breathed, handing the hammer to me. I smirked as she sat down, gulping down the water Mack offered her.

"Having fun yet?" I asked Steven.

Tears ran down his face, making me laugh loudly.

I began hitting his knee. I lost track of time and hits. The crunching noise that sounded every time I hit sent chills through me. I smirked into it, giggling softly. The crack echoed a while later; after more swings and blood erupting. Sweat dripped onto his jeans.

"Good one, boss." Harley cheered.

"Thanks, Harls." I giggled, "Do you know what this bone is?" I asked, pressing down on his thigh. He struggled, yelling under that cloth. "No?" I paused, applying more pressure, "no one at all?" I sighed, "it's called the femur. It's the largest bone in the body. Makes us able to walk and run and jump." I smiled, "wanna see?" I gave a sideways glance to Steven, glaring under my eyelashes.

"You're not gonna…" Mack trailed off.

"Up for examination." I spoke, "questions? Comments? Concerns?"

I picked up the axe and began hitting him in the thigh again, this time, leaving holes in the skin and his pants. He cried out and I laughed. Finally, I dug the axe in deep, pulling it towards the side of his leg and making a horizontal gash. He cried out loudly, gasping as the blood seeped from him. Putting my foot on his stomach, I pulled towards me with the axe.

Steven gagged, drool falling out of his mouth, eyes barely open.

"Come on, stay with me you're gonna miss the best part!" I called, "Owen or Mack." I turned to see Mack looking away, pale.

"Gotcha." Owen ran over, pulling Steven back and slapping him in the face to keep him awake. I began slicing the skin on his knee, pulling away at it while the blood seemed. The stench caused me to cough, but I went back to work. Soon enough, the bone was seen. A few more hits and it would be broken completely on both ends. I had Harley do it. She hit with the hammer until it was ready.

"Now, here we go," I muttered. Steven was gaping, barely awake. "Mack, get over here. I need you." I heard him get up and walk over, "Ok, now…" I paused as soon as I saw him. I raised my bloodied gloved hand and wiped the sweat with my forearm.

"Boss…" he muttered, eyes fixated on the mess, crimson seeped from the wounds I made. The white of the bone shown brightly against the dark.

"It's alright," I instantly grew a soft spot for his queasiness. "Just, stand back and don't pay attention." I smirked. He nodded stiffly, eyes glued to the gory scene before him. Steven was crying loudly. "Oh, shut up." I snapped at him, putting down my utensils and reaching towards the protruding bone; flesh peels on either side of it, blood reeking. The whole house smelled of blood.

"Boss…" Harley mumbled, unsure and stepping back.

"This is important," I snapped, looking at Owen. He nodded at me, eyes held anger and readiness. "Go" and I lifted the bone out of the thigh, the hard part was over. "Uncuff him," I ordered Harley, who did. Owen and I threw him to the ground and I held the bone in my hands. "Mack, go get some air. While you're out, you saw the neighbor's dog house, right?" he nodded, "get it." And he left, returning minutes later with the dog house in his arms. "Thank you." I smiled, "set it down there." He did.

"N-no." Steven muttered quietly.

"Aw, come on, it's fine. You're good, right? You in pain?"

"Fuck you."

"Oh, you would have liked that, wouldn't you?" I giggled, hitting him upside the head with his own bone. The blood caused my gloves to become sticky, churning my stomach.

"Harley…" Mack muttered, stumbling over to her. He stared at the body in front of us, smell nauseating. "Oh, fuck…" he couldn't look away. Covering his mouth, he darted to the kitchen, Harley following. A loud gagging noise erupted.

"This is pretty fucking disgusting." Owen muttered, staring at me. Blood covered my gloves and a bit sprayed on my arms and face.

I gazed down at the asshole, "Yep." His thigh gushed blood, looking empty. Bruises covered the spots Harley and I'd missed when hitting with the hammer. The veins on his thigh were cut, completely gushing blood. It seeped onto the carpet of his living room and coated everything in a five foot radius. I hadn't seen so much blood in a while. It was intoxicating.

Steven's eyes were closing; blood loss, I'd decided. He'd lost so much, and I didn't care. I laughed loudly, opening Steven's eyes with my fingertips, getting his blood on his face and stinging in his eyeballs.

"Come on, motherfucker. Think you can fuck with her and get away with it?" Owen chuckled.

"Hey, Mack, you okay in there?" no answer. "Harley? Is he alright?"

"Y-yeah. Good thing this isn't our place." Harley giggled.

"Be right back." I told Owen, walking into the kitchen. Puke was spewed all across the floor. Chunks of whatever he'd had for dinner last night were everywhere. I could see the doughnuts we'd had for breakfast. The cabinets and chairs were coated, smears of it all over. Harley held up a white towel, she'd been trying to wipe it all up. I laughed at her efforts. Mack didn't look so well. He stood, slumped over the kitchen sink, which, too, was full of his tan throw up. I didn't know what smelled worse, the blood-coated living room or the puked-on kitchen. "Nice one, Mack." He gave a thumbs up and groaned loudly.

"Hey, he's moving." Owen called.

I jumped over, watching as Steven attempted to drag himself to the front door.

"Where do you think you're going with a bum leg?" I giggled.

"Out." He slurred.

"Oh, no. How are we ever gonna catch you?" I laughed. Owen started following his slow movement. "It's cool. Let him go." Owen gave me a weird look. Steven met the couch; blood trailed all over the carpet, just like a snail's trail. Steven pounded on the couch, sobbing loudly.

"Why? Why are you doing this to me?"

I laughed, "don't you remember? You lied. If you wouldn't have lied, we would have been…okay. We would have been decent. No freak outs. No arguments. No planned death. And sure as hell, none of this." I waved his femur in the air.

"Why?" he sobbed.

"Don't. Fuck. With. Me." And I lashed out, pulling the axe up and cutting across his jugular. Not deep enough to kill him. Blood loss will take care of that. I hitched the axe in his neck, dragging him back to the doghouse. I reached in my pocket, pulling out the collar I'd bought. I placed the pink collar around his neck, the blood dripping out and staining the color, leaving splatters on the material. He gagged, chocking on his own blood. I knelt down, cutting his shirt off with my knife. The material's fell at his side. I carved something in his back, the blood pouring out and lingering at the small of his back.

I swung the pick axe, landing it in the top of his skull. A loud crack was heard then the blood poured down his face, swallowing up his features.

I stood, placing his femur bone in his mouth, and walking into the kitchen with Owen. Mack was alright for now, but I grabbed a towel from the cupboard and washed the blood off of me.

We exited the back door, laughing, then placing our bloodied gloves in our pockets and walking down the street, back to my apartment. The sun was now high in the blue sky. The stench of blood still familiar in my nostrils.

* * *

The Gotham police force stormed into the driveway of the house. Quaint little white siding perfectly in tact.

Nothing seemed peculiar about the house. Other then the complaints of the passer-bys and neighbors.

Twenty feet away, you could smell it.

Gordon led the team forward, inching his way to the front door. The team kicked in the door since it wouldn't open, to find a couch in the doorway.

They stepped over it easily, searching the house instantly. A few of his men took the top floor, others the kitchen. Gordon had walked through the kitchen first.

The maroon and tan tiles on the walls were coated in grime which he later found to be vomit. The sink's bottom was coated in vomit and chunks of food bits. The floor was coated too. Whoever was in here must have been really sick. Or the stench got to them.

Gordon held his breath for nearly a minute. In need of air, he nervously exhaled then inhaled. He gagged at the stench which reached his nostrils in a matter of seconds. Whatever happened in here must be found soon.

He took three long strides over the vomit, hearing a squish from the heel of his shoe. Glancing down, he found he'd stepped in the vomit, landing on a portion of the doughnut whoever had done this had devoured. Shivers ran through him and he took another nervous breath before entering the living area.

Upon entering his eyes watered and he couldn't hold his breath any longer. He gasped, instantly regretting it.

Blood was dried on the off-white carpet; a trail leading towards the other wall.

The doghouse was red with a black roof. The shingles on the roof were chipping, it was meant for a small dog. The red paint was chipping off, pieces of the paint fallen off on the carpet.

Gordon focused on that, attempting to prepare himself for what lie before the doghouse.

Nothing he could have done would prepare himself for the sight.

A man with black hair lying in a pool of his own blood. It hadn't yet dried completely and he knew that once they'd pick him up, the tearing, crunching noise of the drying blood would stick in his mind for the remainder of the night.

A bone lie in his mouth. Perhaps the dog's bone?

Sadly, Gordon was wrong.

Upon viewing more, he found the bloody, seeping open thigh. Veins leaked blood, the stench was unbearable. Gordon lowered his gun, sighing. This man was dead, blood everywhere, his hand prints coating the walls and furniture. Gordon wondered how long they'd left him there. How long until he bled out. But when he thought of it, it disturbed him.

The man had a pick axe sticking out of the top of his skull; not deep enough to kill him, just enough to cause a painful blood loss. His eyes were nearly dried shut from the blood. They'd tried to open them, to identify him. After a struggle, they got it.

Gordon needed to leave, needed to breathe fresh air, not air that clung with the stench of death.

Death made him gag. It's an impossible smell to describe, but he knew it well.

Death was everywhere in Gotham. And it tastes like metal between your teeth.

"Sir," an officer called. Any other day, Gordon would have known his name. In the moment, he hadn't. Gordon made eye-contact, which entitled him to see the gory mess of what was once a man, "This is his bone in his mouth, for sure. His femur. Most painful bone to break. Longest, largest bone in the human body." Gordon nearly gagged, imagining the pain. "But there's something you need to see…" he motioned to the shirtless back of the dead man.

Gordon reluctantly made his way to the body again, kneeling down as the other man was doing. The man touched lightly at the dog collar around the man's cut neck.

He followed his finger to the man's back. And there, carved in, were words. Must have been a knife that was used. The gashes were thin and deep.

_"Sleeping dogs lie… xoxo"_

Gordon and the man exchanged looks of fright. They'd seen this kind of work before. It wasn't the Joker, he was locked up. No, it was the one who took out his coworkers yesterday. The one who broke three criminals out of Arkham last night. The one the other criminals had said called herself Echo.

And she was still out there…

_Sleeping dogs lie…_


	7. People Never Change

"Boss, ya here still?" Mack's loud footsteps were heard. The door to my apartment slammed shut and the smell of pizza wafted through the air.

"Yeah." I groaned, turning over on my bed. Harley was in the 'living room' area, watching some stupid soap opera. Owen was snoring beside me, arm draped over my waist the way it had been every time he slept.

The goons and I had gotten quite close actually. It's not every day you find someone who helps you kill others and keeps the secret to themselves. You know, it's sort of therapy for me. In all honesty it is.

It's been five days since the incident with Steven. The news wouldn't stop covering the story. It was funny actually.

"Hey, I-" Mack stopped in the doorway of my bedroom. I luckily owned a queen sized bed. The couch was slept on by Harley and Mack usually got the chair or switched off with me and Owen in the bed. Strange sleeping arrangements, I realize. It's gotten us closer, I must admit. After spending one night in the bed with Owen, you'll realize he's a cuddler. Kinda strange though, a murderer who liked to cuddle? Uncanny. "Well look at the big baby. I'm quite surprised the pizza smell hasn't woken him up yet." He held the box in one hand.

I propped myself up on my elbows but before I could speak, Owen sat up and stared at Mack, "Pizza!" he called, launching himself practically on top of my poor chubbier goon.

Sighing, I stood up and checked my appearance. My hair was looking a bit disheveled from the sleep. I ran a brush through it then used some hairspray, crinkling it with my fingers and allowing it to dry with small ringlets. I could hear some bickering going on between the boys but I was too bored to break it up for the umpteenth time this week.

Entering the living room, I found the soap opera at a commercial. "Hiya boss." She greeted.

"Hey." I sat beside her, watching the commercial for Bud Light. I decided to change the channel to the news. I figured they'd still be covering the 'incident' as they called it. I was right.

"In other news, there has not been any more news on the recent incident with 29 year-old Steven Adams. Adams was found dead in his house Tuesday morning. Puncture wounds covered his body, blood covered the carpet and walls, and his thigh bone was broken, pulled out, and placed in his mouth. Gotham police have revealed that there was, in fact, a note carved into the victims back. What it was, they will not reveal. Officials believe this murderer to be none other than the Joker." I gasped, sitting up straight and fighting back the urge to toss something at my television.

"They're giving HIM credit for that!" I called. Harley sunk back into the couch, nervousness clouding her.

The reporter continued, "Once inside Arkham, they found the clown was still there and completely ignorant to the action. Gotham Police decided there could only be one other behind this; the newest criminal in Gotham: Echo." I sat back; relieved to know they knew my name. This story was different than the rest. "Authorities haven't given a description just yet." They turned their attention to another camera, "a resident recently complained of a stolen doghouse." We changed the channel as I giggled.

"So boss, what's up for today?" Owen asked, stuffing pizza in his face. It was about 2 in the afternoon.

"Well, actually…" I was interrupted as Harley gasped. Turning my attention to her, I figured she overreacted about an occurrence on her show. Once I found her eyes glued to the television, I glanced at it to see a scroller on the top of the screen as a loud buzzing noise sounded.

Mack read aloud: "The Gotham Police have just released a statement, regarding the vigilante clown The Joker, who escaped from Arkham late last night. His whereabouts are still unknown. Police warn all civilians to stay indoors with windows and doors locked, as well as curtains closed."

I shook my head at Harley's expression, "What's the big deal? He kills people, so do we. I think we can handle him if he stops by for a visit, Harley. Is that what you're worried about?"

She inhaled, "um…sure. Let's just say that."

I left her alone after that, deciding to put some makeup on and change into something other than Owen's baggy shirt. Just as I was about to slip into something different, the phone rang.

"Want me to get it?" I heard Mack call.

"Nah," I spoke, leaving the room, "I got it." And I picked up the phone. "Hello?"

Static droned through the phone and there were muffled mutterings. Someone hushed another and then a loud gasp was heard. "Go on." A man whispered, sending chills through me. I knew that voice, but from where?

"H-hey, Blair?"

I wished not reply and just hang up, but my curiosity took hold after her voice rang through my ears, "Yes?"

"I-it's Janean." I noticed my reflection in the mirror; a small smirk had appeared on my lips. Not bothering to fight it off, I stayed silent, "listen, why don't we uh…we…meet up today? To…fix what happened between us."

No, say no, it must be a trap… "sure." I tried my best to sound disinterested. It didn't work.

"Well…in about twenty minutes, why don't we meet up at Bington's."

"Bington's?" I questioned. She means the old building that was burned down last year? The one which has held no residence for all these months? Well, well, well, seems like a set up to me.

"Y-yes." She stuttered out.

I gazed to my goons, them staring intently at me and I realized I was ready for this.

"Why not." I giggled.

She coughed loudly; "alright…umm…" a loud smacking sound was heard, "Bye."

I replied a 'bye' to the dial tone then hung up.

"Seems we're doing something after all, everyone." Half-hearted 'woos' were cheered. "Ah, get over it. Let's go." I ran back into my room, getting dressed in my outfit, knowing they were setting me up for something. I told the others to get their makeup on and load some guns and knives in the van.

We were ready with five minutes to get there. The streets of Gotham were near-empty due to the rain. It seemed like a downpour.

"This may be a setup. There's no reason we should be dealing with this now." I informed them from the back seat. Mack drove with Owen in the passenger seat. Harley and I looked the least normal of the four so we had climbed in the back. "Two of you search around; the other one will stay with me by Janean. It's time to finish this."

The plan was set and as we parked behind the building, excitement bubbled in my stomach. I found myself skipping to the back door, knowing I'd find her there.

When we opened the door, we were quite surprised as to what we found: Janean, tied down to some old rickety chair with a dirtied bandanna tied around her mouth.

My eyes shot to the left as Owen and Harley snuck to search. Mack stayed by my side. He's said he'd promised me he'd man up this time. His words, not mine.

Muffled screams filled my ears and I giggled at Janean, glancing around slightly. I had a feeling someone was here, who, I hadn't known nor cared. They'd be dead once I found them.

"Oh Janean, I'm home." I burst out, standing in front of her. Her eyes took me in, knowing who I was, knowing I killed her best friend, and knowing that I had changed. "Oh, the outfit? You like it?" She seemed nervous when I pulled out my knife. I wonder why… "now, why in the world would you call me here, hm?" forgetting the bandana was around her mouth, I undid it. "Scream and this will be plunged into your jugular faster than you can say 'ouch, my throat'." Mack chuckled. "Now, tell me why you're here."

"I-I can't."

"Can't or won't?" I pushed the blade closer.

"Can't." she insisted. "I would but…" she gasped, shaking her head.

I turned to Mack, "Someone tied her up here, obviously. People don't just go around tying themselves to chairs, right?"

He placed a finger on his lip, "Well…" he joked, "it seems enjoyable." I lightly hit his gut which caused him to grunt. "What was that for?"

"Being a smartass." I retorted, going back to my nervous acquaintance.

"What are you going to do to me?" she had a red mark on her cheek, the size of a hand.

My answer was giggled, "why, whatever I want." And I cut her cheek.

"Why have you been searching for me?"

"The same reason you've been running."

She ogled at me, "because you were scared?"

I sighed, "No. survival."

"You need to hurt me to survive?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

Mack intervened, "You ask too many damn questions." And he hit her. Her sob made me close my eyes. I could feel it. I felt the pain and fear inside her and it made me smile. Her fears were rigid; she didn't know what was to happen next. Nor did I, for that matter.

"Now, do you want to be taken care of slowly or quick?"

Her eyes met mine, "why do I have to be 'taken care of'? Why me?"

Mack sighed, running a hand through his black hair, "whiney bitch," he muttered as he turned away.

I laughed, "You don't remember? What about Joe? The man you stole from me? Well, no, the man you persuaded out of his relationship." She remained quiet, looking ashamed. "What doesn't make sense to me is why you thought you could get away with it."

"I didn't know who you were." She confessed. "I didn't think it mattered so much to you." she put on the fake innocent act. The one everyone fell for in high school. Everyone but me.

"Bull shit. You knew it mattered. We'd been dating for years! If he didn't matter to me, I'd have done what any other would have, and broken up with him!" my blade pierced through her chest and I cut the skin, chills growing on me from the pain I was causing her. I wanted more. I wanted to feel it, taste it.

"I-I can't…can't believe he did what he did." I let her continue, "When I came to him, I didn't think he was going to be alright with having sex."

"But you went anyway." I stated. She nods, "well, too bad. You were apparently wrong. Do you want to know the last time I saw him? That night I caught the two of you." her eyes widened.

"W-what?"

"Don't play dumb with me, you fucking bitch!" I screamed, "You made me give up everything! I lost it all." Another plunge into her flesh sent her wailing. "You were the last Goddamn person I wanted to see. I wanted to make your life hell, like you did mine. I'm getting my revenge tonight." I sneered, pushing the blade in deeper then out completely. She shrieked, gasping as I turned away.

"Any idea where the others are?" Mack mumbled to me quietly.

I glanced around, "Probably still looking…" I somewhat feared for my friends. Strange to call them that, I know…

What I don't know can't kill me.

•••

* * *

Harley nodded at Owen, signaling where she would be searching. Her boss was right about one thing, someone else was here. She could feel it. Why would someone be tied to a chair when no one else was in there?

She wondered if the person knew they'd be coming, if they knew someone would be searching for them when their boss was killing her latest victim. No one had told Harley or Owen or even Mack for that matter, why this Janean girl was so important to Blair – Echo – boss.

Her shoes were quiet as she scoped the area. Her heels weren't clicking and her eyes were wide. She saw Owen's shadow move behind a box, scouting. Harley found the front door, wide open. She peaked out, ensuring no cops were there. The coast was clear, they were safe. For now.

She nearly tripped over something, her clumsy habits. She'd often complain about it. Can't be too stealthy when you're knocking things to the floor.

Breathing out, she looked ahead again.

And there, right in the corner of the building, standing behind another box, crouched low to the floor, was _him_. Her heart rate increased and she stopped her movements. She could faintly hear the muffled cries of Janean and the loud screaming of her boss. They were in clear view. That's when she noticed Blair – Echo – boss, was right in the center of the area. Plain view for _him_.

Her hand grazed her stomach as the sudden fear bubbled up. She backed away, watching _him_. His breathing was even and slows, staring at her boss. _He_ hadn't even seen her, which made her want to giggle, but she controlled the urge. To her left, she could see Owen. He tilted his head to the right, shrugging. She gave him thumbs-up, the same she had done each time she searched an area and it was clean. For some reason, she wished not to tell Owen about their little guest. When Owen pointed up, she knew he would go on the risers, searching up there. She waved him off, sending him another thumbs-up to signal that she had checked there. A lie. A lousy one at that, but one nonetheless. Owen nodded, turning back. Her sigh of relief was halted when she noticed that _he_ had seen her. _He_ was watching her, eyes steady and even. And she backed up more, to the front door of the building. And his smirk crept up. And she bolted out of there, faster than you could say 'ouch, my throat'. Not once looking back.

•••

* * *

"So, how long had you been seeing each other when we were dating?" I asked Janean.

Her eyebrows furrowed, "Why does it matter?"

My blade drew closer to her, tracing over the sensitive flesh on her face, "Answer. The. Question."

She gulped, "t-two months."

"Two months?" I asked, "Two. Months!" I screamed, impaling her right cheek. Tears dropped onto my blade and I shook with anger, "two months? And you were fucking him from when?"

"T-the first day." She gurgled.

"Day one? Really now? You're a whore." I screamed.

"How'd you know?"

"What?"

"My job."

"Don't be smart with me." I threatened, cutting her upper lip.

"N-no, I-I am a prostitute,"

My eyes narrowed, "That's just too precious…" I cooed, "so what all do you do?" I licked my lips, looking back at Mack. His eyes held nervousness.

"I-um…do anything they want. They tell me, pay me, and I do it."

"And the last thing you did was…?"

She gulped, "blew a guy."

Laughter erupted, and I tried to stifle it. "You mean to tell me that after all these years of me and some others calling you a whore, you actually went through with it?"

"If they were going to say that, I may as well be one." She cried, trying to hit my soft spot.

Mack cleared his throat, "That's very immature, you realize. So if people said you're a pussy, what occupation would that be?" he laughed at his joke.

She glared at him but smiled sweetly, "Why don't you see what I can do before you judge?" she was seriously flirting with my goon while she was bleeding and tied to a chair, waiting for her death? Wow. Classy.

Mack backed up slightly, "Yeah, not into you. Sorry." I laughed loud.

"See, you repulse them. They just come to you for a quick fuck, you know. And I'm sure you have some kind of disease, am I right?" the silence answered it.

"Jeez, all these people from your past seem to have STD's, huh?" Owen returned with a knife in his hands.

"Aww you're back." I smiled, "anything?"

"Nope. Harley and I searched everywhere."

"Speaking of that klutz, where is she?" Mack asked, looking about.

Owen sighed, "She left. I don't know where to but the way she was running; I don't think she's coming back."

I faked a pout, "damn." She was a good friend for the time being though. She had her imprint on my life.

I saw Janean check out Owen as well. "These men are your goons, then?" she asked.

Owen turned his attention to her, "what the fuck happened to you?"

Mack chortled, "She was born that way, apparently."

"Sexy, aren't they?" I replied to Janean, playing it up, and squeezing both of my boys' asses.

"I bet they don't find you attractive either." Janean sighed, "They must be gay."

"Hey!" Mack jolted at that, angry.

"Cool it; she doesn't know her ass from a hole in the ground. She'll be gone soon." I smiled. "But, I don't know. Why don't we ask them?" With that, Owen smiled at me, kissing me the way he had the day I let him out of the cell. He pulled me close and I could feel was he getting hard. I smirked, pulling back. He readjusted himself then let his hand trail on my showing thighs. Mack turned to me, lips crashing to my neck first then making their way up to my mouth. He kissed me hard and grabbing my ass. I giggled, pulling back again, and staring at Janean. "Jealous much, bitch?"

"I get more action a night than you do." She stuck her tongue out. An idea rose in my head.

"That's perfectly fine. I'd rather fuck guys that care about me." And I turned to Owen who was looking around and biting his lip. The look on his face read: 'get rid of this boner', which I laughed at. "Untie her boys, I'm tired of this." They did, pulling her up by the arm. "Now, bring her over here." I walked to a workbench, wood falling apart and chunks of it sticking up. Splinter city.

"What are you doing to me, you cunt?"

"Literally and figuratively dirty mouth." I clicked my tongue with a shake of my head, pulling out my knife again and picking up a screwdriver I'd found beside the table. "You see, I'm disposing of you simply because of what you did in the past. You apparently haven't learned from your mistakes, which is an important key to living. Hence you early demise. Want to know what's so funny to me?" she struggled under Owen and Mack's strong hands, "You haven't once apologized."

She stopped, staring up at me with one of those looks that mean, 'that's all I had to do'? "Well, I'm sor-"

"Too late." I retorted quickly, pushing her chin to the workbench, opening her mouth and yanking at her tongue, extending it as far as possible. I raised the screwdriver above my head, pounding down with force and impaling her tongue with it, creating a hole through her tongue then into the table. Blood gushed and she screamed, pulling back but soon realizing that would cause more pain. I pulled my knife and slowly cut the portion of her tongue cleanly off, making her fall back onto the floor with the front of her tongue remaining on the table. Blood dropped down her lip, flooding from her new wound. She screamed and slurred and choked, me laughing at her now hand-covered mouth as tears spill from her blue eyes. Her blond hair had dried blood throughout, seemingly red streaks that put a demonic sense to her.

Mack and Owen stood solemnly, watching her squirm. I leaned forward, crouching down and placing a hand on her chest, feeling the abnormally speedy pulses of her heartbeat.

"Now, if you don't relax, you won't make it through this." She tried backing from me until she hit the table, a piece of wood stuck into her back, screwdriver falling to the floor from the hit to the wood. Her tongue still lies bloody and stuck to it, a perfect circle of metal through from the tool. Janean's eyes grew wide and I watched as they closed.

She died of fright.

I smirked, pulling back my knife still coated in her blood. Final step.

I carved again, spelling out words that sang in my head.

_**Once a whore, you're nothing more.**_

My back cracked as I stood. It had been the only sound in the building. Well, minus the footsteps.

_….Footsteps?_

Owen and Mack turned now, staring at where the sound came from as someone began clapping.

_"Bravo. Encore."_


	8. I'd Rather Focus on Anything Except

Addicted to your Punishment Ch. 8- I'd Rather Focus on Anything except What I'm Feeling

_Joker_

Biting my tongue roughly, I stood slightly hunched, purple coat over my shoulders, green vest underneath with a patterned shirt under that. My painted face gazed in her direction and my black-rimmed eyes viewed her.

"Well, looks what we have here." I smirked.

She stood dumbfounded, "What do you want?" Stepping closer and ignoring her goons, I stood in her eyesight and raised my eyebrows. Recognition struck her pretty features and she furrowed her brows, "You." she breathed, "J? Oh, fuck I should have known." Her hands flew in the air.

"Ah, finally." My head shook. "That's not why I'm here, sadly." And her eyes again met mine as her stance became defensive. "Now, I've seen your work. Watching a news story on something I hadn't done is to me quite hilarious. Especially considering I was in Arkham the entire time, then watching the news with your dear ol' dad." Her jaw clenched and I held back a giggle, licking my lips. "Now I've seen that your style is…better than the rest. I took an interest in you. You have no guilt….I like that. But how would you like to join me?"

She breathed, "Join you? Really? You never work with anyone." Oh how she had me there.

"Consider it a little…helpful advocate. You help me, I help you."

"Oh really? And how could you help me?"

"Already did." I gazed at the body of the girl she completely destroyed.

"You did that?" she didn't seem convinced.

"Who else do you think held the phone to her ear?" I looked down at her.

She eyed me then began walking to her goons who stood silent this entire time.

Her perfume filled my nostrils and covered up the stench of blood from the murdered girl beside me. "So, you're suggesting that I join you, to call you 'boss'?" she smirked with confidence, a smirk I wanted to wipe off her face. This wasn't something I normally did, it was humiliating in itself.

"Yeah."

She nodded slowly, gears turned in her head, "and what of my friends here?"_ Friends?_

"What of them?"

"I'm not going anywhere without them." so that means she does want to join?

Clearing my throat I sighed, "I suppose…"

"Well I don't do well with calling someone 'boss'." She spoke smoothly.

I ran my tongue over my teeth, "Too bad."

"Well," she shrugged, "Too bad for you." I glared at her. "There's obviously something you need, to be coming to me like this. So, I need nothing. I'm good with what I've got going on here. My job is done." She motioned to the lifeless body of that blond.

"Done? As in, she was your last issue?" and she did just what I'd waited for: stopped dead in her tracks. "Oh, you didn't think I knew. But, fine, the boss thing can go."

"Oh, well in that case…NO." and she began walking again. I picked up my normal pace and cut her off before she could make it to the door.

"Really? Do you really want to do that?" I paused, "Janean Roberts, the girl lying bloody over there? You DO remember, right? Blair Valentine's therapist's journal. January through April 2000. You were…fourteen if I counted correctly." The way her eyes faded light made me snigger and I pulled out the journal from my pocket, "shall I read the first page?" she didn't reply, "January 20th, patient has been staring at her arms for some time now. She won't speak of anything…March 15th, she begins speaking of a girl named Janean. All she reveals is that she hates her and wishes ill-luck on her and her family. April 13th: We're done. I cannot take part in any more sessions; she's become angry. She speaks of harming others and medication is-" I looked at her, her goons staring wide-eyed at their boss. "And from there the page is ripped out. The last few words are barely visible since someone scratched it out with black ink. Though, who would do that? Not the therapist, I imagine, hmm?"

"Shut up."

"What was that, doll?"

"I said, shut the fuck up. You know nothing about me."

"Oh, but I do." I waved the journal at her. "Nice reading material on the way here, actually." Her jaw clenched as she looked up at me, seeming completely helpless. The bright color of makeup which concealed her face seemed to fade. "Now, are you going to join me?"

"No."

"Aw, but Blair, we could be such great friends." I teased. "Not that I make them nicely, but some say change is good. And hey, if I don't like you, I'll just uh…kill ya. How would you like that?" I spoke to her as if she were a dog. "I'd. Take. The. Offer."

She looked back at her 'friends'. "Do it, you don't have much of a choice." The tall one said.

The other nodded, "We'll be with ya."

Licking my lips, I teetered from heel to toe, "well how precious."

"As I said before, Joker, I don't take well to 'boss'."

"Fine. You can be my…assistant? Highest in command, next to me. Everyone will call you boss. But me, of course."

"Fine."

"What was that, doll?"

She walked right up to me, staring unafraid into my eyes. "Fine." She snapped, closer to my face than any other.

"Is she gonna seal it like with us?" a goon asked in a whisper which wasn't so quiet. My eyes hadn't left my new partner and I watched as a smirk ran.

"Shake on it." I snapped, pulling my hand to her arm. She hadn't blinked and the next thing I know, her lips are pressed to mine in a rough kiss. She bit my lower lip and pulled back, gathering her knife off the table.

"What now…J?" My eyes lingered too long on her body; the corset dress which barely covered her up. It's been so damn long since I've…well, since _SHE_ left, I haven't had anyone to… - my head hurt just thinking about it, as did…other regions.

I could still feel the heat on my lips and I ran my tongue over them to remove the feeling; something futile. "Time to get back home."

"Home?"

I led my partner – still shuddering at the word – out back where I'd parked the van. The three climbed in and we drove off.


End file.
